


The Waiting Room

by Pidgey



Series: Second Impressions [1]
Category: Justified
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 01:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8602375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pidgey/pseuds/Pidgey
Summary: It's late at night and Tim is on babysitting-a-shot-Raylan duty at the hospital. He finds someone unexpected in the waiting room.





	

Tim hates hospitals. It sounds cliché but turns out, Tim hates clichés too. It’s not the smell of disinfectant or the artificial light or even the association with death. Tim is pretty used to death and a hospital is a better place to go than some. It’s the efficiency, death is just a thing that happens here. There’s a protocol, you console the family, you send the body to the morgue downstairs and get a cup of coffee before moving on. He understands but it doesn’t stop his skin from crawling and his irritation from rising at the smallest provocation.  
Tim shakes off his contemplation and affects his usual air of nonchalance and saunters into the waiting room. He wonders if pulling out his flask would be poor form. He chooses the particular uncomfortable chair he will spend the rest of his night in and makes a bee line for it. He freezes halfway there. It’s late, the sort of late where the only people populating the waiting room are people expecting the worst, people unable to bring themselves to leave, and insomniac marshals who feel too guilty to leave their friend alone. But sure enough Boyd fucking Crowder, the hillbilly kingpin is the only other person and therefore Tim’s company for the night. He was leaning forward with his head in in hands staring at the floor. His hands were carded in his hair which was ever crazier than usual as if he’d been tugging at it.

On a whim Tim turns back down the hallway and returns with two cups of coffee. Boyd hasn’t moved an inch, looks like he hasn’t for a while, and the sniper in Tim is almost impressed. He gently nudges one hand against Boyd’s shoulder and feels oddly satisfied as Boyd startles, he always seems so aware of everyone and everything. The criminal looks up at Tim with bloodshot eyes and a lost expression that disappears in a split second. Boyd gives a wan smile and accepts the shitty cup of coffee with a nod. Tim slumps into the chair next to Boyd and takes a loud, obnoxious slurp of his coffee. 

“Man that’s shit,” he winces dramatically, “it’s like they’re trying to distract us from how shit waiting for news is with the worlds shittiest coffee.”

“Maybe they figure we won’t notice the taste because we are so focused on other, more important matters.”

Tim chuckles lightly, “So Crowder, what are the ‘other matters’ that are forcing you to enjoy my charming company at 1am?”

“An acquaintance of mine… A friend… Is ill. I am waiting for news.”

“So what that means is no one told you Raylan is out of surgery?” Tim feels Boyd tense next to him and he feels a rush of satisfaction again. It may be unfair but he was going to bask in the feeling of having one up on Boyd Crowder while it lasted.

“I appreciate that information Marshal, I suspected that was the case. May I ask what the prognoses is?”

“You may, I may not answer.” Tim smirks as Boyd narrows his eyes. Deciding on both mercy and not making an enemy out of the most powerful man in Harlan for fun Tim continues, “It was touch and go for a while but they let me know he is stable. S’why I moved out here, the others went home once he was out and we knew he was gonna make it. I stayed to keep watch. No permanent damage but he lost a lot of blood. He’ll be on desk duty for a while and a royal pain in my ass but nothing permanent.”

Boyd let’s out a sigh and slumps a bit, “where was he shot?”

“In Harlan,” Tim struggles not to grin. Now that he’s delivered the good news he feels he has free reign to be an absolute shit again.

Boyd doesn’t roll his eyes. He’s not the type to roll his eyes but Tim can feel the eye roll anyway.

“Why Marshal Gutterson, I believe you know what I meant.”

“One in the shoulder, cracked his collarbone, one grazed his side and one in the leg, all on the left. Quick flurry of shots.” Tim reports. Boyd pales dramatically and clutches his paper cup tightly.

Tim eyes him, “they really didn’t tell you anything did they?”

“Why would they,” Boyd smiles weakly, “I ain’t family, we aren’t even friends.” 

He rotates his coffee cup a few times, staring at it intently, “they wouldn’t let me in to see him.”

It all clicks into place and Tim suddenly sees Boyd not as a criminal mastermind and asshole but as a friend’s worried¬ partner… and an asshole. Tim pats Boyd’s shoulder awkwardly and they sit in silence.

“You know what? Fuck this. C’mon,” Tim stands suddenly. This time Boyd doesn’t startle but does tense visibly.

“I will not leave this hospital marshal Gutterson.”

“I’m not asking you to. Heck I doubt I could drag you kicking and screaming away at this point right? I just figure if I have to be here to babysit the cowboy I may as well have eyes on him right?”  
Boyd stands and gestures for Tim to go ahead of him. His stiff movements and eager gaze belied his calm and composed appearance, “after you marshal.”

“Well ‘course cuz you don’t even know what ward he is in,” Tim jokes. Boyd winces and Tim feels like an asshole which is totally unfair considering how he is sticking his neck out right now. “And call me Tim.” he says as a peace offering. 

“Lead on, Tim.” Boyd smiles.

It doesn’t take long to find the nurse in charge of the night shift. She glares openly at Boyd and stands straighter. Tim wonders how much Boyd bullied and threatened to try to find Raylan and feels a wave of respect for the petite woman in front of him who must be one tough number. 

“Marshal, there has been no news and I would appreciate if you returned to the general waiting area. I told you I would inform you of any change and I will.” She states coldly, her friendly and reassuring demeanour from earlier had vanished. Tim felt the urge to punch Boyd in the arm. You didn’t harass the nurses, that was just not on.

“Sorry ma’am. It’s just we have gotten word that there have been further threats to Marshal Givens life and I have been asked to sit in the room with him for protection.”

“Is there any danger for my staff or other patients?” She asks worriedly.

“Highly unlikely. In fact, I don’t even think this is a serious threat personally. More of a precaution than anything, but orders are orders.” Tim smiles, layering on the charm as best he can.

She nods, “Who is this man though? He is not a marshal or he would have said so earlier.”

Tim kicks himself for not thinking to ask Boyd what lies he had told in hopes of getting access to Raylan’s room. “I am afraid that is on a need to know basis ma’am,” he says apologetically, “but it’s imperative we both keep an eye on marshal Givens.”

“Fine,” she relents, “Room 206, fifth on the left from here. I’ll let the other staff know.”

Tim thanks her and jogs to catch up with Boyd who is already halfway to the room. When they enter Boyd freezes. The beeps of the various machines the only noise as the two men stare at the figure hooked up to them. Raylan’s pale form seemed deathly still. His torso was bare and white bandages crossed his torso and left shoulder. The usual colour and charisma of the man was so conspicuous in its absence. Boyd takes a step forward and then stops again. He seems so lost and out of place, unsure of how to approach.

Tim makes for the chair in the corner of the room at the foot of the bed, “Look, for the next couple of hours I see nothing, especially not any super dramatic, secret, forbidden, gay romance type shit. So whatever happens, up to and including hand holding and whispering sweet nothings, I don’t see any of it right?”

He slumps in the chair and suddenly wishes for Raylan’s hat to pull over his face. He pretends not to watch as Boyd pulls the remaining chair closer to Raylan’s right side, sits and leaning forward grasps Raylan’s hand between his own and rests his forehead against them. He shuts his eyes and breathes deeply a few times, reassuring himself that Raylan is here and just feeling the pulse in Raylan’s hand, steady and strong. Tim relaxes in for a long, boring and uncomfortable night. He feels himself begin to doze off. Just before everything goes dark a voice rumbles through his exhausted brain.

“Thank you Tim Gutterson.”

Around dawn Tim wakes up to the thin light through the hospital window. His muscles scream in protest as he unfolds from the chair. He looks up and sees Boyd has at some point slumped forward onto Raylan’s hospital bed. The dark circles under his eyes somehow more pronounced in sleep. Raylan’s right hand grasped tightly in Boyd’s left and pressed against Boyd’s chest with their fingers threaded together. Tim smirks, thinking how both of their hands must be asleep crushed under Boyd like that. He is so focused on the bizarre scene before him that he startles when Raylan’s left hand reaches over to stroke Boyd’s fluffy black hair. Tim meets Raylan’s eyes and sees the guarded and fierce expression there, daring Tim to say something. Tim simply nods and stands, stretching and hearing several joints pop.

“You should wake him; he’d be glad to see you awake.” Tim says and leaves the room.

“Fuckin Harlan man,” he murmurs to himself and wanders off in search of coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> If I'm honest I wrote a series of these 'people realising Boyd and Raylan are a couple' and this was the only one I reckon didn't suck. Feedback appreciated.


End file.
